


The First Ego

by SepticRaven



Series: Adventures In The Central [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Angus is dying, Marvin is pure, The jims are as they always are, and Angus is having none of it, poor Angus.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepticRaven/pseuds/SepticRaven
Summary: Everybody knew the egos. They knew Antisepticeye, Dr. Schneeplestien, Jackieboy man, and the other known egos that had been adopted and built by the community and Jack. The ones featured in Power Hours and videos, the ones drawn and adored.But no matter what, everybody forget one ego.The first ego.Angus.





	The First Ego

**Author's Note:**

> This work has been edited from its original posting. I decided that I didn't portray Angus right, and wanted to fix that.

Seán McLoughlin had many egos.

Throughout his years on YouTube, many Egos had been created, taking on their own lives thanks to the community. There was Anti, everybody’s favorite, the dark side. Who didn’t love a little danger? Then, there was the good doctor himself, Henrik Von Scheeplestein. Of course, Marvin the Magnificent was loved by fans, cherished and remembered. Then, Jackieboy man. The happy, bouncy superhero, beloved by the community. Even James and Chase Brody were well known, despite their small amount of content. People just loved the egos.  
Even the Zombie who never got more than a thumbnail was adopted by the fan base, given a name and place among the others.

Yet everybody managed to forget one persona. The Ego who started it all, who had more video content than half of the others, but was still forgotten.

The first ego, Angus.

Angus didn’t mind the lack of attention, he could deal with the silence, but he was dying. He had been dying for years, barely clinging to existence anymore. Dying was such a surreal experience, and a lonely one.

While Anti, Marvin, and the many other egos lived in the subspace, living their lives and being there when Seán needed them, Angus faded a little bit more. Even Seán had seemed to forget about him, and that had managed to hurt the most.

By now, he had gotten used to it all. He had gotten used to the silence, the emptiness, and the pain. He was just happy to spend his time in the forest around the central, following animals and wishing he could be in Australia again. He still went in to the central occasionally, but the egos never knew what to say. They still treated him the same, like a wilderness hardened big brother, but they always had that glint in their eyes. Even though he understood it, the sadness and pity, it only reminded him more that he was ceasing to exist.

Angus hated the awkwardness.

Angus missed his days of hunting Cassowaries and sharks, trailing bears and seeing new parts of the world. He missed it all, and he had to accept that he would never get it back. Angus was the forgotten ego, and soon, nothing of him would be left, aside from the few people in the world who still remembered.

But he was Angus the Survival Hunter. He could take on any animal, learn and adapt to anything, even death. Sure, it was terrifying to fade, to see yourself near transparent and feel your personality itself start to get farther from reach, but Angus liked to trick himself. He liked to pretend he was still the Survival Hunter, and that death was just another creature to track.

He was pretty confident that he’d catch this one.

Angus sighed, leaning against a tree and studying his translucent hands, staring at the blurry leaves through them. His pack was beside him, too heavy to carry. He would have to cut down on supplies before returning to tracking the deers. He pulled back on his fingerless gloves, running a hand through his unruly hair.

He heard the crackle of leaves, immediately doing the calculations of the sound, on instinct. From the distance of each step to the weight, it definitely was a person, if any of the egos could be called that. He half expected Shawn, a fresh ego still gaining his form, and the only other ego to venture into the woods, but it wasn’t Shawn’s heavy Irish accent that greeted him, it was Marvin’s softer voice.

Angus stilled, breath slowing as he pressed back against the tree he was behind. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Marvin, in fact, they got along well, but he had been avoiding the egos for weeks now. He didn’t want to be seen as he was, fading. It wasn’t the surviving, strong image he was created in, it was a shell of himself.

Sheathing the knife he had grabbed out of instinct and peering around his tree, breath quiet and soft, he observed the ego. Marvin was looking around carefully, searching for something, or someone.

Angus ducked back behind the tree, hands balled in tight fists. Shawn wasn’t sought out by the egos when he disappeared, something they both could bond over, though Angus usually didn’t want to be sought out during an expedition.  
Shawn really wasn’t an official ego, just a character Jack had voice acted, but he hoped that Bendy and The Ink Machine would get Shawn an ego status, not leave him to die like Angus.

If Marvin wasn’t searching for the Irish toymaker, who was he searching for?

Accepting the situation, Angus carefully made his way around the ego, not making a sound. Though he had the tendency to bite off more than he could chew, he was still damn good at his job. It was one of his few consolations.

“Can I help ya with something, mate?” Marvin wheeled around, shoulders high and the air charged. Angus just sighed, letting the masked magician calm down, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree, eyes trained on his unwanted company.

Marvin didn’t like the woods, something Angus had known from the second he had dragged him to the woods for mandatory survival training, so what was so important that it required Marvin, of all egos, to leave the Central?

“Yes, Uh...” The ego floundered for something to say, Angus’ eyebrow raising the best it could against his scars. He wasn’t amused at the distraction from his hunt.

“Jus’ spit it out then, don’t got all day.” He knew he was being brash, but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, especially when a damned owl had kept him up all night.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just- the Iplier egos are over for a meeting, wanted to see if we could come up with a collaborative idea to present to Jack and Mark. Attendance is mandatory.” Angus gave Marvin a flat look. They both knew that he didn’t count as attendance. He hadn’t counted for nearly four years at that point. As soon as the new egos arrived, he stopped counting. Angus had existed first, seen the central when it was first created in the subspace. He had existed for years alone before the new egos started to appear, before Jack was anything more than a small YouTuber hiding his irishness. He didn’t count as an ego anymore. Hell, he wasn’t sure he ever had.

Yes, the egos did sometimes drag him to socialize with the ipliers, and Angus usually enjoyed it to some extent, but time had made Angus less patient with long, boring meetings. Besides, the last time he had seen the ipliers, you had to squint to see through him. It felt strange and unwelcome to shatter the image of who he was. He didn’t want to be remembered like that.

“Please? It just... doesn’t feel right to leave you out here. Besides, Robbie misses you.” Marvin peered at him hopefully through his cat mask, eyes soft and pleading. Angus felt his heart tug at the mention of Robbie, sighing and looking away. The zombie had always taken a liking to him for some reason, following him around like a slow puppy. It made sense that the ego would miss him, but what was going to happen when he was finally gone? Angus sighed, shaking his head. He was such a stick in the mud.

“A’ight. I’ll stay with ya drongos for a few, and just this one meetin. ‘Rioght?” He hefted his pack over his shoulders with a grunt, hooking a hatchet to his belt, just in case. He looked at Marvin expectantly, rolling his eyes at the out of place ego.

“Ya forgot th’ way, didn’t ya?”

Marvin nodded, chuckling awkwardly as Angus walked ahead, staring at the egos footprints for a moment before abandoning the task, just trusting his sense of direction over Marvin’s running around. Just what was he getting himself into?

~

The central was buzzing with activity, making Angus’ skin itch. He had never liked a lot of people, definitely preferring the company of nature. It was probably instinct from his creation, alone in the outback, trailing animals. There, being surrounded was never a good thing.

“Ghosts, Jim! Ghosts! It seems the elusive ghost Jim has come out of hiding! What will this mean?” Angus snapped his head towards two figures on the balcony above, narrowing his eyes. One held a microphone, the other a large camera, both staring down at him. Angus snarled internally, a few weak emotions swirling in his hollow chest. Even if it was anger and exasperation, at least it was something. He didn’t mind the Jims, but he was still on edge.

“Relax, it’s just the Jims.” Angus peered over at Marvin, whom had finally caught up, panting slightly. The hunter nodded, wanting to get it all over with as he walked in the manor, tense. He knew that Bingiplier, whom he was lucky enough to have never met, liked to play pranks, and the knowledge that he could team up with Jackie was enough to keep Angus on full alert.

“I know. Ya think it would kill ‘em to not call me ghost Jim all th’ time? What happened to Aussie Jim?” He grumbled to himself, peering up as Anchor Jim did his strange walk away from the balcony.

He was cautious as he walked through the aged halls of the central, step faltering as he saw a face in the corner of his eye. He turned, freezing in place. He faced an older mirror, one he had put up himself to make the lonely Central more lively all those years ago. Now, his beautiful mirror only taunted him.

Even though he was the oldest ego, his was still physically six years younger than the majority of them, and it showed. He stared at himself, a younger Seán staring back. He looked terrible. There was dirt on his face and in his hair, and though he thankfully didn’t smell too bad, he still looked like he had been walking with his face all day. The two scars above his right eyebrow made it angle down, making his gaze more judging, while the left eyebrows single scar tilted the edge up. He was covered with scars, a running joke being that he had been tasted by every animal in Australia, but they all spat him out. He didn’t mind his scars, but they could get bothersome at times.

He didn’t have colored hair or special items, he was just Seán crossed with Bear Grylls and Steve Irwin. He was a mismatched Aussie with a bad accent. He definitely wasn’t refined like the others, but the rugged edge suited him. Why, he could still hit a bird in the eye with a crossbow from a near mile away, so he liked to think he hadn’t lost his touch.

Looking closer, he saw the entire room behind him, making a pang of sadness burn in his chest. Of course the Jim’s thought he was a ghost, he looked like one well enough. His skin was barely colored anymore, as if a white filter was covering his entire body, muting his colors. Even his clothes were faded.

“You alright?” Angus met Marvin’s eyes through the reflective glass.

“‘M fine. Jus’ go.” He pretended the moment of weakness hadn’t happened, focusing on his stride as he walked the ever so familiar halls, occasionally marveling at how the place had changed with the new egos arrival. It was more alive now, little signs of life here and there in the forms of Chases trick shot set ups or Robbie’s childish doodles, maybe a splash of ink here and there from Shawn. It wasn’t a bad change per say, but it still jarred Angus. It was just subtle changes reminding him of the times, of the ways that the world seemed to age, while he didn’t. As Jackieboy liked to call him, he was like a Australian Peter Pan who had been left on Castaway island for six years. Not the most flattering title, but he liked it well enough.

He stopped outside of the meeting room, letting Marvin go first. He wasn’t eager to see the others, to feel the annoying sting of jealousy that older egos like Yandereplier and the King of the Squirrels were barely faded, while he was transparent.

He shook his head, scolding himself. Yandereplier was a bit screwed up, but she was sweet when she wasn’t plotting murder, of course fans liked her. And King... King was special, but still loved. Maybe if Angus has been created earlier, he would have been better liked. It wasn’t his fault he was forgotten, and it wasn’t the egos either. If it was anyone’s, it was Jack’s.

Marvin opened the door to the designated meeting room, one that was rarely used by the chaotic septic egos. Head high as possible, Angus walked into the room behind the magician, eyes raking across the surprised egos faces. He saw the discomfort in their eyes, as well as curiously in the ipliers. It felt so exposing.

Trying not to show any discomfort himself, he stalked to a corner and slid his pack off of his shoulder, leaning against the wall. Anti was doing the same, but they didn’t invade each others personal space. They got along, kind of.

He felt eyes on him, studying him and probably the wall behind him as well. It was no secret, he was fading. Slowly, the meeting continued, Angus tuning it out as he studied the others, documenting them. The biggest threats were yanderiplier, whom definitely had a knife under her skirt, Wilford, Angus had long since learned that madness meant danger, and Darkaplier. Of course, he had documented them all before, studied and categorized them, but he always wanted fresh data. It was a habit.

He studied Darkaplier carefully, the muscle memory from studying predators fitting all too well. The grey skinned demon was calm, listening the Googleplier talk about something, yet Angus knew he was being studied just the same. The demon was a strong presence, much like Anti and Jackie. They wouldn’t fade for a long time.  
Angus studied everyone in turn, every small detail, every twitch. He felt like he was surrounded by a pack of wolves. He was being a little dramatic, but if he wasn’t paranoid, he wasn’t Angus.

Slowly, the meeting adjourned, several egos bolting for the doors as soon as they knew they wouldn’t be dragged back. Angus waited patiently, smiling as Robbie slowly approached him, reminding him of a baby deer with his wobbly gait. Robbie had been bouncing a bit all meeting, ever since he had seen Angus enter. As soon as he was close, Angus ruffled Robbie’s fluffy purple hair, chuckling at the zombie’s overjoyed expression.

“How ya been, Robbie? Did ja miss me, mate?” Robbie nodded quickly, making Angus stiffen incase he needed to catch his friend’s head, but the appendage managed to stay on. Man, he really needed to restitch the guy, some knots had pulled through and most of the other egos sucked at stitching. Anti was just about good enough to sloppily restitch his neck every day or so, though Angus always ended up redoing it when he came around, and Chase was semi good. Henrik was, of course, better than all of them, but Robbie normally waiting for the hunter to return and stitch him. Angus chuckled, the sentimental fuck.

“An..Gus.” Though he still said it like _and guss_ , it was close enough. Before he could say anything else, the zombie was hugging him, making him freeze on instinct. Robbie normally didn’t like the scratchiness of Angus’ fur on his jacket, and Angus hated hugs due to the ever present memory of an anaconda squeezing him to near death, but it was a solid reminder of how long he had been gone this time. Sighing, the ego hugged back with one arm, giving the animated corpse a small squeeze.

Though the central made him uncomfortable, he definitely needed to stay awhile, if just for Robbie. He did enjoy the woods in all its solitude, but he did probably need a shower and some first aid- damn fanged seagulls- so maybe a week or two from the woods wouldn’t kill him. Much.

“Angus!” Angus peered over Robbie’s shoulder, finally prying the zombie free when it was too much, though Robbie didn’t seem to mind. Yandereplier stood in front of them, rocking back on her heels.

“I made Robbie a bow and I want a second opinion!” Her eyes were wide, red hair flopping in her face while she stubbornly pushed it back, still refusing to wear headbands as stubbornly as ever. Sometimes Angus forgot how old Yandere was, seeing as she still looked like an adult, but had the mentality of a young school girl.

“Why not, Sheila? ‘ll give ‘er a look.” Yandere smiled, running to yank incessantly on Darkaplier’s sleeve with wide eyes, asking for her bow. The demon sighed, snapping it into existence and handing it to the ego, who quickly ran back. Angus had to laugh at Dark’s plight, knowing that Wilford and him were the closest thing to parents Yandere had, meaning they dealt with her energy the most.

“I made it kinda dark this time, but I think it’ll look good.” She nodded to herself, straining to reach up to Robbie hair, huffing as the zombie leaned down. Once the bow had been carefully fastened to keep Robbie’s fluffy hair from his eyes, Angus laughed, smiling wider than he had in years, probably. Robbie with a bow was fucking adorable. If Angus hadn’t broken his phone, again, he definitely would have made this his background.

“What do you think?” As always, Yandere had her wicked little glint, leaning forward and studying Angus’ face for any dislike. Angus was silent for a moment, letting the ego stew, but eventually another glance at Robbie broke the facade.

“Bonzer.” He laughed as the iplier ego brought her fist down in victory, mumbling about how ‘Google could suck her dick’, glaring at said ego’s retreating figure, the search engine probably giving the girl more distasteful response, as he usually did.

Ruffling Robbie’s hair once again, mindful of the hairbow, Angus re-shouldered his pack.  
“Be back in a bit, friend. If I get dirt everywheh’, Schneep ‘ll kill me.” Of course, Scheeplestien was probably still going to kill him for managing to get injured and not coming back to get it properly dressed, but Angue was keeping with tradition.

Angus did a mock salute as Robbie nodded, turning on his heel. He wondered how he looked right now, dirty and torn, a few scattered open cuts, a heavy pack hanging off one shoulder. He probably looked like he did back in the day, after serving his stint. However, returning from shooting birds and chasing deer didn’t exactly feel too heroic.

He caught a few eyes as he walked towards his room, giving an occasional nod or whatever to get past. If he had to admit it, he wanted to just sleep, but familiarizing oneself with the environment was a must for any survival guide. Even if he knew every turn of the central, it had been a while. Plus, knowing Jackie and Bing, he wanted to document and disable any traps in his hall.

“Hey, Angus?” The Australian slowed his pace, craning his neck to see who had spoken. It was Chase. Angus turned around fully, cocking an eyebrow at the ego. Chase was an interesting one to be around, to say the least. He was a complicated character, but Angus has always enjoyed a challenge. That was what spurred Angus to really know Chase at first, the challenge, though he had started to enjoy the egos company after a while. ‘Sides, he was surprisingly good at camping, and he brought the kids sometimes, when he had them for his weekend.

“Later, want to join us for a movie? I know you don’t really like them, but I thought I’d ask.” Angus thought for a moment, but eventually cracked a smile.

“Sure, mate. Kinda been missin’ ya antics out theh.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, this was kind of all over the place. I recently learned about the forgotten ego, and wanted to give him some content. Angus needs love.


End file.
